


Headfirst Slide Into Cooperstown On A Bad Bet

by Popmypunk



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Buck Whump, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, F/M, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Love Confessions, M/M, Self-Destruction, Slow Burn, Team as Family, There will be family moments
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:47:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24116761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Popmypunk/pseuds/Popmypunk
Summary: “Don't feel bad for the suicidal cats, gotta kill themselves nine times before they get it right.”
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley & Bobby Nash, Evan "Buck" Buckley & Firehouse 118 Crew, Evan “Buck” Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Maddie Buckley/Howie "Chimney" Han
Comments: 10
Kudos: 85





	Headfirst Slide Into Cooperstown On A Bad Bet

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for taking the time to click on this story, I hope it is even the tiniest as good as all the  
> other stories here on AO3. I do not have much to add other than the disclaimer below. I appreciate any and all feedback or comments. Also, if anyone wants to be friends, my door is always open.
> 
> Disclaimer:This story does heavily display suicidal thoughts and ideation along with numerous bad coping mechanisms. Please proceed with caution as these topics can be triggering. Along with that the medical information mentioned could not be accurate and the timeline could be a little twisted, so I do apologize.

_“I confess, I messed up dropping "I'm sorry" like you're still around.”_

I sat on the edge of the building, my legs dangling below me. There was smoke billowing up into the sky, leaving me like everyone and everything does. Everyone below me was going about their day like little ants on the sidewalk. It was liberating being in control of your life. Being able to choose if today was going to be the day you checked out. One simple movement forward I would never have another worry. One simple movement and I could make a bunch of people’s lives better. I could make my life better.

Yet, here I was. Sitting, trying, hell _willing_ myself to move forward. To take full control, to mute the noise that resides in my brain and put myself out of my misery. There was nothing for me here on this dull rock. I was only wasting oxygen here. There was nothing that would make me better, nothing that would make anything else better. Nothing that would make me want to stay. Nothing I wouldn’t end up fucking up anyways.

“Sir?”

With the sound breaking the stream of self-deprecating thoughts, I stubbed out my cigarette and slid my flask back into my breast pocket taking one last look at the welcoming cement below. Someone had found me. Turning my head slowly there stood a timid looking woman with the LAFD insignia on her pristine white shirt. 

“Sir, you are not allowed to be up here, much less smoking.”

I let out a little scuff, “I am sorry about that, I just needed a moment to get some fresh air.” 

The woman let out a little chuckle.

Choosing to continue my life, well, more like choosing not to scar the poor woman and ending up on the six o’clock news. Again. I swung my legs over the edge and moved to have my legs to touch solid ground and began making strides to go past her and out the door.

“You’re a former firefighter, I feel like you, if anyone, would understand that smoking is far from fresh air.” She chuckled again, she must have thought she was funny. But her words did more damage than any cigarette ever would. “Former firefighter”, there’s that fucking phrase again, all I’m doomed to be. 

But hey, she doesn’t know. 

“You got me there,” I said softly as I purposely made a show of finally moving past the woman and to the door, limiting any further conversations.

Being told you’ll never have the same life again, being automatically discredited when it comes to recovery, being disregarded like trash starts to get to you after a while, I mean what do I have to offer the world now? The funny part about being worn down for so long is that at some point it starts to feel like that is all you deserve in this life.

I became the stain on their otherwise perfect family from the second I was pushed into existence. Both my parents being fairly religious they never chose alternative options. They made sure I would be with them long enough for me to learn what a burden I am. They taught me that I could never truly contribute to society, that I was simply a bottom feeder, and not worthy of a home. You may be able to say I have a home with Maddie given that she is my sister and all, but with the age gap between us and her leaving home the first moment she could, it never really happened. She truly made an effort, but she had to look out for herself to make it out alive with our family and Doug. She tries so hard, but I built the walls around myself the first moment she gave me the same look of pity everyone to this day still gives me. 

Continuing down flight after flight of stairs, my emotions started getting the better of me. I could feel my face start to burn as a mix of sadness and anger washed over me. The thoughts of my failures, the dangers I’ve made everyone's lives out to be, the times I’ve never been heard hitting me like a train. When will I ever have something nice? If I knew the outcome of all of this before I filed the suit, maybe things wouldn’t have gone this way. Maybe I wouldn’t have had to fight this. Maybe I would have found another way back. 

Why _am_ I fighting?

The million-dollar question in my life in more ways than one. After all this wasted time and years spent in pain, clawing at some form of a family, I finally got the answer. It was time I did something to end my suffering, take the message the world was giving. Time to finish things on my terms.

Pulling myself out of my thoughts, I took in my surroundings and the delicate details of the LAFD Headquarters. In front of me was a glossy wood door donning a bright gold nameplate. 

Slamming my fist on the door in front of me with three hard whacks, a deep male voice called out instantly, “Come in!”

Wasting no time I pushed the door open and was met with the hard eyes of LAFD’s second in charge. One look at me and his face twisted with disgust, tension taking over the small office. 

I’m pretty sure this is just a natural reaction every time someone sees me. 

“Evan Buckley. What the hell are you doing in my office without your little lawyer?” He stood up from his desk in some poor attempt to size me up like he wanted to fight. At this point, with where I am mentally and physically I could fucking care less. I wish he would do something, hell put me out of this misery called life.

“I’m here to drop the lawsuit.” I let out. I haven’t been doing much talking lately. 

He jerked back ever so slightly surprised, a small shit-eating grin blossomed on his face. “Drop the lawsuit? Did I hear you correctly?” 

“Yes, I said what I _fucking_ said. Are you going to accept it or not?” I force out, you figured he would be the first person to accept the words coming out of my mouth not questions asked.

“Oh, I accept it, Buckley, no doubt about it. Just figured you’d fight a little longer.-” He snorted as he walked over to the filing cabinet on his left, opening it and pulling out some papers. “- you always seemed so feisty from the way Captain Nash described you. It’s a shame it had to end this way. I wonder what he’s going to say when I tell him the good news.” 

Oh the irony, if only he knew the thoughts running through my head. 

“Well, Captain Nash isn’t always right, you can tell him that if you would like. You can also add that LAFD or he doesn’t need to worry about me ever again “ I blew out, all the anger I have slowly busted my seams, getting ready to unravel. He paused for a beat, allowing for a brief second of sympathy to overcome his facial expressions.

“Well Buckley, we just need you to sign a few things then the LAFD and you never have to cross paths again.” He laughed again as he laid the papers on his desk facing me, pen already uncapped. I couldn't even take a seat to watch me drive what would be the nail in the coffin that is my life. Giving him one last dirty look, I bent down and signed every last line needed. 

“I won’t be crossing paths with anyone again after tonight.”

Throwing the pen down with a little bit of force, it skids across his desk.

“That’s understood, no one wants to smell cheap whiskey and tobacco.”

I couldn’t even muster up anything more to say that wouldn’t be followed by me swinging my fist into his face and kicking off the list of folks that also needed a love tap or two. I just turned around and walked out the door and I didn’t stop until I was at the doors of my Jeep. I blew out the air hard becoming a little dizzy. I managed to hold my breath the whole way through the building. It was finally over, this stupid lawsuit was over. Now what? I’m never going to go back to the thing I was meant to do. I am never going to be the same person, have the same drive, have the same relationships. All because some sick kid wanted to come after Bobby and I was just the poor sob who took the hit. All because of some stupid blood clot. All because fucking parents decided they wanted to have sex one night.

By this point, I had managed to get into my Jeep and throw it into drive. Pulling out of the parking lot, I turned on the road, acting on autopilot.

Running on autopilot was the only thing that kept the black hole from swallowing me into the sweet abyss of death. It helped me keep some of the noise at bay, long enough to be a functional adult. 

Self-deprecating thoughts have become the soundtrack of my life. 

||

Pulling through the gates that surrounded my apartment, I put my Jeep into park as soon as I made my way into my assigned spot. With the engine running still and the cool air from the AC dancing on my face, I grabbed the steering wheel letting my head hit the top. I did smell like cheap whiskey and tobacco. Shutting off the Jeep, I pulled myself through the motions of making my way inside. Being out of work and the class A fuck up I am, I had been spending all my time at my overpriced apartment. I am glad I had some savings, otherwise, I would be adding homeless to my list of issues at the moment. 

Moving through the doorway of my home, I instantly made my way up a flight of stairs not even bothering to lock the door. Again, running on autopilot like the champion I am, I managed to take off my street clothes and throw some sleep pants on, disregarding my clothes where I stood. The idea of sleeping created the best feeling I’ve had in the last 6 months, the little bit of serotonin that kept me alive. I wasted no time flopping down into the bed, arms reaching to hug the only pillow on my bed. I pulled it as close as I could to myself, having the pressure giving me some mental relief. 

I didn’t know what the next steps would take, I couldn’t figure out a reason to move, much less a plan for my miserable existence. I had a low standard of living before this whole fiasco, but being a firefighter, being part of a -so-called- family, having a purpose made my outlook on life bright. Without the sun, there was nothing to keep me growing. I was just slowly dying.

Rolling from my side onto my back, I kept up the stream of thoughts, slowly letting them form a plan for me. I knew if I kept on this train of thought, my days would be numbered - not that I am complaining- so if anything I should start having some fun and let these ideas guide me.

With no future obligations and no plan on living to see the next week, I sat up from my bed and pulled myself into a standing position. Some form of excitement took over me. I guess realizing your days are numbered and you don’t really give a fuck can surely take the stress off your plate. I had this whole house to myself, I might as well take advantage of it while I still have time. There were so many things to do.

Taking advantage of the twisted pep in my step I trotted down the loft stairs and made a beeline to the fridge, It was time for me to drink dinner. 

Pulling open the door to look at its contents. I hadn’t been eating and my refrigerator was surely proof. The only contents were a few beer cans, a half-empty bottle of whiskey, baking soda, and a few rotten apples. Ignoring the non-drinkable items I pulled the whiskey and beers out of the cold and onto the counter next to me, carefully popping the cap off the whiskey bottle.

Throwing back a swig led to another, which led to another, and pretty soon I was staring into the bottom of an empty bottle. At Least I had some more in my flask. The comfort that can come from alcohol is hard to describe, the best way to sum it up is a warm internal hug that numbs you and turns off the noise. The burning sensation of alcohol made its way down my throat and into this bottomless pit of despair. When you’re as far gone and numb as me, you have to hurt to feel something.

I set the bottle on the counter, keeping my hand wrapped tightly around its neck. I probably should have picked up more on my way back, something to keep me busy tonight. But for some reason, I couldn’t even do that right. 

A surge of anger came over me as my lifelong shortcomings burst out of my memories like a firework, displaying every moment I failed or fell short. The anger that took over me caused me in a blur of fury to sling the empty glass bottle across the room having it shatter a few inches short of the front window. Every little piece that made up the bottle flew away from the point of contact. I stayed fixated on the spot where the bottle hit, in some strange way it was like my life. Everything I made contact with, I subsequently fucked it up, sending people away from me.

Great, now I couldn’t even drink in peace without my thoughts trying to engulf me. I continued to stand there for a few minutes trying to plan my next step, however, I couldn’t get past the idea of drinking to the point of blacking out. I knew there wasn’t much I could achieve here, but the idea of leaving my house also wasn’t doing it for me.

I grabbed the beers and circled back to the stairs, pulling myself up. 

“Get your shit together Buck”.. I mumbled, pulling back the tab of the beer can as I made it into the loft. I couldn’t spend my numbered days here drinking alone, I should spend my days out and about, trying to finish the plan that Buck 1.0 has set up before it got derailed. I was pretty much finished here, I didn’t need to leave a video.

Instead of going back into my bed, I walked over to my dresser putting my beers on top, pulling out the cleanest shirt and pants I could find. Also ignoring the fact that I hadn’t done laundry in a bit of time. Though, I guess it didn’t matter in the long run. Whenever they find me, Maddie can just throw all my things away. Tonight was about me, tonight was about letting go of all the 

suffering and letting sin and self-destruction win. In some twisted way and homage to the Buck 1.0, I was before.

I finished off the beer, leaving the can back on the dresser. It only took me a moment to pull up my jack and fish out my flask, moving it to my hip. I didn’t even bother with my appearance or the state of my home. If I didn’t make it home tonight, it’s not like I still have to clean this place. 

||

I had managed to chug the remaining beers I had and make it out the door in record time. I had everything I needed and I was even smart enough to pop an Ativan to calm my nerves a bit. The combo of the anti-anxiety meds and liquor surely put me in a foggy state. With an Uber already called, I only had to wait in the yard for a few minutes. Dusk was one of my favorite times of the day, between the cooling air and the lazy lull of the community it was peaceful. 

“Evan?”, I didn’t even bother to check the plates, simply just pulling the door open and sliding in. 

“Yeah, that’s me.” 

I immediately put my head down, looking at my phone attempting to avoid a conversation. I played around with my phone, opening and exiting different apps. For some reason, my fingers hovered over the little chat bubble that was my texts. Being the masochist I am I clicked the app and started scrolling through my text messages. It was nice to remember when people reached out to me, well, other than my lawyer and occasionally Maddie. My face started to heat up in embarrassment, I was this pathetic. Everyone was right before the lawsuit, they realized I wasn’t worthy of the LAFD before I could even realize it. 

I wasn’t about to cry in my Uber, but once again, those moments chipped away at my already flimsy front and small tears started to fall. I missed them, I missed what I had when there was some chance of a normal life. I miss the person I had become as Buck 2.0, but the thing is I was born to lose. 

“Sir? We’re here.” I whipped my head up to, I spaced out the whole 10-minute ride to this bar. 

He had concern furrowed in his brows. Unbuckling my seat belt I let out a quick, “Uh, thank you. Have a good night”.

From the door of my Uber to the bouncer out of the club, it only took me a few steps before I was flashing my ID and making a beeline to the bar. 

It took a bit of standing around before the short heavily tattooed bartender made his way over, “What are you having?”.

“Two shots of Jager and an Irish car bomb.” The bartender looked at me for a beat before cracking a smile. 

“Hope that’s for a friend and you, otherwise you’ll be on your ass soon.” I chuckled at him if only he knew. “Do you want to start a tab or payout?”

He slid the drinks my way, I quickly picked up the Jager’s with both hands tossing them back. 

“I’ll start a tab.”

I picked up the Irish car bomb and turned around, I figured I’d drink a little and see where the night would take me. Between the buzz of alcohol, the Ativan kicking in, and the loud club music I was able to lighten up a little bit. Being out and about, plus having a nice buzz sure could turn things around. Nothing like being physically present but mentally gone. 

I had made it to the corner of the bar near one of the ratty condom machines I started taking big gulps of the drink taking in my surroundings. Between the numerous lights and people rubbing up against each other, I felt like I could hide in plain sight and for that reason only, I loved it. Getting to the bottom of my drink I started sawing with the beat of the music, letting the alcohol turn off my pain. The whole bar started to swirl into one dark mess, the beat of the music-making it's way through my body. It was almost like I was underwater and the alcohol kept pulling me under. 

I moved around the bar, pinballing from the condom machine over to the jukebox letting time pass me on. I danced a bit, my body brushing past others. It was my first bit of physical contact in what seemed like forever, but I didn’t dwell on that too long. As my thirst got greater and I realized I was carrying around an empty pint glass I moved like a moth to flames, back to the bar flagging down the bartender, sweat pouring down my body.

“Back again huh? What do you want?” He threw his bar towel over his shoulder eyeing me with a lifeless look, he’s probably seen a million saps just like me. Got to love the service industry, it sure can chew you up and spit you out.

I let out an honest to God giggle, “Hell yeah, I have things to forget. I’ll take whatever your strongest drink is and double it.”

“Huh, common answer. Alright, tell me, how bad do you want to forget? I might be able to work a thing or two up for you.” He was smiling a bit as his hands made busy being the bar pouring multiple liquids into a pint glass. I took a moment to contemplate the offer, what did I have to lose by taking up the bartender on a shady offer? I mean my days were numbered, so at this point, there is no such thing as a bad idea. 

“Whatever you can offer, I mean my options are starting to get limited.” It was a slightly darker response then I would have liked to offer to a stranger. But with the look he gave me in response, he probably understood where I was heading.

“Well, you'll forget a few things or days. Whichever comes first.”

I blinked a few times, the alcohol making my reaction time slow,” Now, that is some news I am happy to hear!”. 

The bartender threw his head back and let out a short laugh. Without missing a beat he went back to slinging drinks and fulfilling requests while maintaining a semi conversation with me. Damn, he did have some skills. Back in my glory days in South America, I could barely make a drink without fumbling. 

“Here, drink this” the guy slid a small glass from where he was standing across the bar. I picked up the glass, not even bothering to look at the contents, and tossed it back in one gulp. Instantly it felt like fire was down my through. “What the fuck was that?” 

“Oh shit, you’re one of the first people to drink it without questioning me! Fucking priceless, I like your style man! Follow it with this.” He had pushed pause on slinging drinks, ignoring the people trying to flag him down and slid a pint glass my way. It took a few more seconds before my inhibitions got worse, I was about one wrong move away from hitting the floor.

“Whoa, what is that?” I felt like someone was closing the curtains on my life. Black spots dancing around everywhere. 

“The shot or the drink?” The bartender was leaning closer to the bar, eyes staring.

“Both?”

“It’s a ‘Liquid Cocaine’ shot and a ‘Death in the Afternoon’, you said make it strong!” I must have made some sort of face because he was losing it laughing. Death in the afternoon seemed so fitting right now. Even if it was early evening.

“Don’t worry blondie, it’s not real cocaine. It’s just an even mix of Jägermeister, Goldschlager, and Rumple Minze. If you’re looking for actual cocaine, it’s going to be a little hard to acquire.” My arms were getting tired from holding myself against the grimy bar, but the drinks seemed to be locking me in place. 

“What about the other one? If I live through today, I might need to learn how to make one of those.” His hand came down hard on the bar. 

“Oh boy, it’s just absinthe and champagne! Great shit to drink if you need to get hammered without much!” 

“Is absinthe illegal?” He snorted and just nodded.

“-your name?” I blinked, realizing his attention was on me. “What’s your name?” 

“Buck.”

He smiled again, “Well Buck, what has you here tonight? Are you here with friends? Because someone is going to need to help you home once it all hits.” It took me longer than I would like to admit to registering what he said to me. 

“ I’m alone. I’m always alone.” 

He leaned on the bar, “Being alone is a part of life, we just need to embrace it.”

“That’s easy to say when you don’t have a life like mine. I’m pretty much a real-life bad luck schleprock.” There was a horrendous snort from him, I could tell I was slurring my words.

“Are you comparing yourself to a child's cartoon?”

That genuinely made me let out a little smile, “No, just the bad luck that follows me in life.”

He looked at me like he was trying to get to the bottom of my twisted brain and understand,” I’m just about to get off, would you want to grab a beer and talk? Or maybe water and something greasy? I’d be happy to listen to what's getting to you or y’ know watch you long enough for someone to make sure you don’t asphyxiate somehow.”

“You’re kind, but I wouldn’t want to waste your time. Plus, I have plans for tonight.”

“Oh really? Like what, killing yourself?” 

I could tell he was trying to be funny, but I didn’t want to beat around the bush anymore. 

“Yeah, that was the idea. I do have a DNR.” I was lying about the DNR, but he didn’t need to know that.  
He pulled back slightly eyes wide, “Listen, Buck that isn’t the way to go. All these issues we have in life are temporary, things always get better. I should have cut you off earlier man, can I call someone? I just want to make sure you get home okay. ” 

With all this talking the smallest form of sobriety started dancing in the back of my mind and my anxiety and bottled up anger started to come to the forefront. 

“You don’t know a fucking thing about me, okay? I don’t even know your fucking name and your sitting here giving me the ‘It gets better’ speech. You don’t know that!? For me, shit has only ever progressed from shitty to even shit-.” I had pushed myself off the bar and took a few steps back, the smell of BO and alcohol hit my nose. 

“ It’s Pete.” 

My ranting stopped, “What?”

“My name's Pete, and I’ve been where you are at today so I sure as hell am going to tell you it gets better, cause it does.” With an exasperated face, he turned around, throwing his bar rag on the counter and disappeared through the backroom doors. 

Great, I even managed to run off a fucking stranger. That’s a new low. I started to pat my pockets from my phone when a sudden hand on my shoulder turned me around. 

Pete had a jacket on now, with a helmet under his arms. Cocking an eyebrow he began to speak. “Come one, let's get you some water and food. I want to hear your story. Don’t worry about your tab either, It’s on me.”

Huh, I guess someone wanted to stick around for a bit. 

||

“Captain Nash?”

“This is him, who’s speaking?”

“This is assistant fire chief Reginald Nugent with LAFD. We’re calling to inform you that the lawsuit out against LAFD, the City of Los Angeles, as well as yourself, has been dropped earlier this evening. I wanted to reach out instead of my secretary to inform you, Robert, since this was a borderline personal matter.” Stopping dead in my tracks, I processed the information as he continued everything suddenly started moving fast.

“It’s a shame to see a bright star fall, but at the end of the day, we will no longer have to worry about the nuisance that is Evan Buckley. I’m proud we all rode out the storm and are seeing the sunshine. We’ll reach out here in the coming days once we get a permanent replacement lined up for your hou-”

“How did this happen? What time did this happen? Who gave you the news?” I let out in a single breath interrupting him, I needed more answers now.

There was a dry chuckle, “He came storming into my office and signed the release I’d been saving about two and a half ago hours ago. Didn’t say much other than mumbling about dropping the suit and never crossing paths with people again after tonight. The kid also reeked of tobacco and whiskey, he must have found new interests.” It’s only been a week, this can’t be the Buck we know.

“Did he say anything else?” With emotions running high and my thoughts going a mile a minute I had to know more. 

“I’ll be honest, I was not listening to a word the kids said other than ‘I’m here to drop the lawsuit’. Nothing that comes out of his mouth matters now that we have this issue laid to rest.” 

“Uhm thank you for letting me know, sir”, there was nothing more I could say to him that wouldn’t result in getting fired. I just was becoming increasingly worried about Buck and I know he would be no help. 

“You’re welcome, I figured you’d want to be one of the first people to know. Oh and Robert?”

“Sir?”

“Good job”, and with that, the call ended. Why did he say a good job? If anything I feel like I should be reprimanded, I started this mess. I’m the one who was supposed to be blown up. I’m the one who prompted this lawsuit. I had to do something or at least talk to Buck, but it was barely 8:30 pm and I was not off the clock for another hour and a half.

“Cap, you’re kind of blocking the staircase.” 

“Sorry, Torrez.” I moved back up the staircase and out of his way, sitting down in the first chair that came into sight. Within seconds Chimney and Hen pulled up their seats, they must have heard the call. 

“Bobby, are you okay? You look like you're getting sick”. They both leaned forward and Hen spoke. 

What am I supposed to say?

“That was the Brass, they said Buck dropped the lawsuit.” There was a collective gulp.

“Isn’t that a good thing? We can speak to him again.” 

“Yeah, Hen, it’s a good thing. I just don’t have a good feeling about this, I don’t think Buck is handling things well. We all know how Buck can react. Plus, something Fire Chief Nugent said is just sitting with me wrong.” 

“What did he say?” Hen slid her hand gently over mine.

“He said Buck smelled strongly of tobacco and whiskey when he came in to drop the lawsuit. And when he finished he said something about ‘not crossing paths with anyone again after tonight.” Hen let out a soft gasp. 

“He’s still on blood thinners, he’s not supposed to be drinking, much less hard liquor. And smoking?” 

“I think he’s also worried about the part where he insinuates he may kill himself, Hen.” Chimney has his hands on his head, thinking things over. “I’m going to step out and call Maddie to fill her in. I don’t want to jump to conclusions, but if we're even remotely right about this she needs to know. Plus, she may have heard something from him.”

He popped up without another word and made his way down the stairs, moving the phone to his ear. 

There was a bit of silence as we let everything soak in before Hen squeezed my hand, “Bobby, he's a strong person. What he said may have just come out wrong or the fire chief didn’t understand how he meant it. He wouldn't want to leave us permanently. I know he wouldn’t want to leave Chris.”

I could feel tears starting to form in my eyes, “But what if he’s been pushed to the point where he wants to leave us because he thinks that will fix things? I haven’t been through what he has, but I’ve been there before mentally.” Hen didn’t respond, she just looked at me, blinking tears away.

“We just need to give him a reason and show him why he needs to stick around. We’ll be off in an hour and a half, maybe we can all go over there?”

“Go where?” We both turned in the direction of the voice, Eddie was coming up the stairs. 

“Buck dropped the lawsuit, we’re going to head over to his place after work to talk to him”. 

Eddie scoffed, “That’s great and all, but shouldn’t Buck be the one to reach out to us? He did, after all, decide to screw over the family and sue us.” 

“Eddie, it’s not like-”

“No Hen, it’s not like what? He had a choice and that’s how he decided to act. Why should we bend over backward to speak with him?”. 

Standing up, I moved to be directly in front of Eddie, a surge of anger running through me. “Look, Eddie, you can act however you want, but that is not going to affect our choices. I caused this mess and I’m going to reach out to him now that I can. I just don’t want to see another son die.” I left out a sob, anger leaving me as fast as it came and stepped away from Eddie. 

His face immediately looked less tense once he saw the tears coming out of my eyes. “Bobby, why would Buck die, it’s just a lawsuit? I know things aren’t the best right now, but we’ll get back there” I could tell Eddie was trying to be nicer because of my emotional status but I couldn’t speak, I just closed my eyes letting my emotions take over. Semi silent tears started to roll down my face as panic bubbled up my throat like bad Taco Bell.

“The person who informed Bobby the lawsuit was dropped told us a bit of what he said when he was at LAFD headquarters. He mentioned ‘Never crossing paths with anyone again after tonight” and they said he smelled heavily of tobacco and whiskey.” Hen had taken to standing next to me, hand on my shoulder. She had a better idea of where I was at emotionally and mentally. 

“That can’t be right, Buck is still on blood thinners. He can’t drink?” Eddie tried to state softly but it came out more as a question. 

“That’s why we're concerned. He hasn’t been in a good spot recently. I mean first the bombing, the embolism, the tsunami, and the lawsuit? That’s a lot to happen to one person, he’s bound to hit rock bottom at one point or another. The least we could do is just check on him.” 

No one said anything, we just stood there letting everything soak in. Buck is a strong man and he’s one of a kind. The thing with that is, if I had the same bad luck as him, I don’t know if I’d stick around. 

“Maddie said she hasn’t heard anything from him. She’s at a coffee shop near his house so she’s going to head over to his apartment now and will keep us updated. I let her know we’d come by once the next team takes over.” Chimney said he made large strides in our direction. You could tell the myriad of emotions that covered his face. Even before he became involved with Maddie, he always had a soft spot for Buck. Hell, we all did. 

I still was a bit emotional, but I knew we still had to make it through work before we could go see Buck. There were so many things I wanted to say and so many things I know I needed to do to make things right.

“Alright guys, let’s get this ready for the next team so we can have a quick pass off. I want to be able to see Buck as soon as possible.” Everyone nodded in agreement. Naturally, however, the second I finished the alarm started to blare. 

“118, please respond. We have a priority 1 call on the corner of Benton and Sunset Blvd. Motorcycle vs Automobile, police on the scene.” 

I grabbed my radio. “ 118 responding. Two minutes out”

“Or, let’s gear up.”

||

The moment we stepped out of the bar the cool night air hit my face. It was refreshing to have fresh air meet my lungs. I stumbled after Pete, for a dude with short legs he sure as hell moved fast. 

“Where are we going?” I tried to get out, but it sounds like a jumble of words.. 

“There’s a diner around the corner, we can get you sobered up and I can call someone for you.” Pete said as we made it to his motorcycle. 

“I told you I’m alone, I don’t have anyone to call,” It came out kind of rough. “- I’m just going to get out of your hai-.” Pete’s hand was around my wrist before I could even move. 

“No, just get on the bike. I can drop you off at home if I need to, I just want to make sure you're sober enough so you don’t choke on your vomit.” I didn’t say anything, I just kept giving him a blank stare.

Why am I going with a stranger again? 

“Come on, just get on the bike.” I only nodded and followed him as he moved to get on the bike. I instantly put my hands on his shoulders as It was a little harder for me to get on the bike. Begin drunk and all but I seemed to manage, only shaking the bike a bit. 

“Make sure to hold on to me.” Pete said as he started the bike and slid his helmet on. 

I didn’t respond, I only slid my hands to his waist gripping tightly. I pushed my head against the back of Pete’s helmet, trying to stop the spinning going on in my head. 

He didn’t waste any pulling out of the grimy bar parking lot and onto the road, letting LA pass around us. The vibrations of the motorcycle started shaking my stomach up as we continued to speed down the road. I attempted to open an eye to see where exactly we were but everything was a giant blur that didn’t help my stomach at all.

As time rolled on and the vibrations continued on I could feel all the alcohol as it started to make its way up my throat, slowly burning as it climbed further up. The only downside to drinking alcohol was sobering up. 

There was a slight pressure on my sternum that only added to the discomfort. I tried to move my head directly behind Pete’s helmet to block some of the wind hitting my face and center myself, but it only helped for a moment before I started to cough. 

At first it was a small cough, but within seconds I was coughing so hard I tightened my grip on Pete’s waist. The effects of everything were starting to wear off and the feeling that came along with this cough was something familiar but I couldn't seem to put my finger on it. I felt like I needed to vomit, but I knew the moment I did my night would be over. Pete would probably take me to the hospital or something. 

“Are you okay?”, he yelled through his helmet. 

Before I could get out a response, the pressure that was at my sternum started to jolt up my throat rapidly, and within seconds what I thought was vomit flew out of my mouth and all over Pete. 

As it hit him the bike wobbled in surprise, “What the fuck?! Is that blood?!” 

There was no response from me, only a second wave of me jolting forward, spitting more blood. Nausea fully overtook me as I felt like my body was being soaked in fire.

“Shit!”

There was a loud squeal of a tire and the next thing I saw was two vibrant lights coming at me. As quickly as I saw them they were gone and everything went black.

I just felt like I was soaring. 

||

We didn’t waste any time getting the rig moving in the direction of the call. Our whole team was geared up anticipating what scene we would be arriving shortly. Buck was still in the back of my head, as much as I joke that he is my son there was some truth in it. Buck was the type of man I wish Robert Jr. would have grown up to be. 

“Cap! Eddie and I got the driver of the car. Hen has the motorcyclist.” Chim spits off as he barrelled out of the truck the moment it was parked. Hen and Eddie follow in tow. Sliding out of the truck I directed the rest of the team to hit the ground running to make sure they were being of assistance. 

I made my way over the officers on scene getting the rundown of what went down. As sad as it is to say, these types of calls were pretty standard. We can just do our job and make sure everyone walks away alive. 

“Cap! We need you over here!” Eddie called out as he waved me over. A quick jog and I was near Eddie, Chim, and the driver of the car. 

“What’s going on over here?” I questioned. I looked over the driver, she only had a small head wound and some cuts that littered her body from the windshield glass. 

“Bobby, she’s saying there were two guys on the motorcycle.” 

“ Ma’am, are you positive there were two men on the motorcycle?”, while she only had a few injuries I had to make sure she was credible before I sent my team on a search. 

“Yes sir, there was the driver who was the one in the black shirt with the helmet on and the guy that was behind him. It was a big blond guy with a tan shirt. It looked like he had blood down the front of his shirt, but it all happened so fast. I couldn’t be sure, I just know he didn’t have a helmet on.” She bowed her head solemnly.

“Thank you very much, ma’am, you just saved that man's life.” I gave her shoulder a quick squeeze as Chimney finished up on her. 

Wasting now time I grabbed my radio and made the call, “All personnel beware, there is a third victim. Male, blond, tan shirt, no helmet. We needed to sweep the perimeter of the crash site, and the victim was thrown on impact.” 

Instantly people were responding with “10-4”, as they started moving around the crash site. Everyone had a flashlight in hand, sweeping the ground with light in a fluid motion. Little pieces of glass glistened in the light, a sad reminder of the accident. 

“Over here! I found someone!”, screamed one of the LAPD officers on the scene. Everyone rushed towards the sounds of the voice, trying to be the first one to the third victim. All you saw was a pair of grey Vans peeking out from under a car. 

“Clear a path! Let medical in”, let out someone as the group of people opened up. Hen and Chimney broke through the group of people and slid to the ground with Eddie trailing behind.  
“Hen, grab a pedal pulse. Eddie, grab the backboard, you and I are going to pull this dude out.” 

“Heard”, they both said in response to Chimney as they moved into action. 

Normally I would say it’s a sight to see them all work in such harmony, but now would not be the time. 

“We have a slow pulse, the guy is probably going into shock. Let’s get him moved and on the gurney as fast and safe as we can”. Hands were flying in a myriad of actions as the team safety pulled the guy further out from under the car. 

It took a few moments but they had the guys' jean-clad legs slowly moving on the backboard. 

“Gentle guys, keep it steady.” 

The slow process kept up until Eddie let out a strange noise, “Oh my God, Buck!?”

The moment the word ‘Buck’ came out of Eddie’s mouth I was on my knees with the others looking at the man's face. Jesus Christ, it was Buck. 

If it was chaotic before, the moment we all knew it was Buck everything was amped up. Hands flew all over him, checking him to see what the initial damage was. 

There was no verbal communication, only visual communication. Since we all knew his past medical history, it was easier to assess him and get him on to the stretcher for transport. 

Buck hadn’t responded to any of the teams' attempts at contact, he was completely out. Yes, he had a pulse, but we didn’t know for how long. It felt like forever by the time we had him on the rig. There were no questioning anyone's actions when the three of them jumped in the back of the rig. Once I slammed those doors, I made my way around the side of the truck and slid into the driver's seat starting the truck up and hitting the gas. 

“Cap, I know Cedars are the preferred hospital but Good Samaritan is only four minutes out. We’re still trying to pinpoint the bleed.” Hen called out over the radio. One simple turn and I was on the way. 

“Call in it. We’re coming in hot.” I responded. I tried my hardest to focus on the driving but words were pouring in from the back that made my heart clench and the breath be taken straight out of my lungs. 

“No, please no.”

“You need to make it.”

“He’s crashing!”

“Starting compressions!”

I couldn’t hear the sirens or my breath, only the deep pounding of my heart in my ears. I can’t lose any more people I love. This was almost as bad as the bombing, except I didn’t know much on how this happened.

“ He’s stable.”

Oh, thank God. He’s stable. 

“C-cap, do we have an ETA?”

“We’re pulling into the bay right now, be prepared to bail out.”

The second moment the rig was close enough to the entrance, I hit the brakes and slammed it into park. I was out of the vehicle in a blink of an eye racing to catch up with the three of them who were a few steps ahead. 

As soon as we pulled Buck’s gurney from the rig, there was no time wasted in rushing from the ambulance bay to the entrance of the ER. 

Within seconds hands were pulling him from us as they carted him away into the bowels of the hospital. 

_“Incoming, we have a 27-year-old male with head trauma and various lacerations. Unknown bleeding out of the oral cavity. BP 50/33. Prep-”_

Once he was out of my line of sight I left out a painful sob. 

I’ve been through this before with Buck, but as always, not knowing if he was going to live was the worst. However, unlike the times before, the last words I shared with Buck were not ones I cared to have been our last. 

There was a hand that pulled me out of my thoughts, “ Bobby, we need to clean up and get back to the station. By the time we get back here, hopefully, they have an update”. 

I could only nod at Eddie as I followed his light pullback in the direction of the ambulance. 

“Fuck, I need to call Maddie.” Chim let out.

“Tell her to meet us at the station, we can all ride back to the hospital after.” 

At least by now our relief should be at the station.


End file.
